A POETRY BOOK

 

INNERCITY BLUES

 

People

Bewitched, bothered and bewildered

Hauling the luggage of

Dreams, lost, stolen and deferred,

Traveling the road

of

Promises denied

And Freedman’s Bureau’s Exodus lies

Coupled with the Syndrome they did not identify

until Stockholm crystallized

 in an epiphany of

Volcanic recognition

Summertime simmering

Perplex percolations

And complex permutations

Synthesized into

The simplicity of the

Kill whitey

Burn baby, burn

Inner city Blues

 

And in a few years

 

Some of these

 Same people

Would put their foot on the rock

 And pat that foot non-stop

Stand in a crowd

And

Shout out loud -

I’m Black

And

I’m proud

 

With a

Do You Hear Me?

Back beat.

 

The synchronicity of

Inner-city blues

Gave the ghettoes

A new attitude

 

 

 

THE SANDS OF ZANZIBAR

$25.00Price
     

    415-894-7056

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